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Sunday, September 6, 2009

Impossible

I made myself take the time last night to write a letter to Roo. I ended up working on it for an hour and a half. I had so much to say! I still feel like I have more to say. I may write her more than one letter.

It was so hard to write, knowing that when she reads it, she won't be my daughter anymore. It's hard enough to think that I've only got three and a half days left with her. It seems impossible, what I have to do on Wednesday. It seems unfair. I am her mommy! How am I supposed to just sign something and not be her mommy anymore?

I put that in the letter as well. It ended up about five typed pages long. I just felt like I needed to write more and more. How can I explain to her why I have made this decision? How can I make her understand how very much I love her? I don't think I can. I don't think there are words. I will always love her, no matter what. But I know that years from now, when she reads her letter, she won't love me. She won't even know me, I don't think. I don't know what kind of relationship I'll have with P and M, how often I'll see Roo over the years. I would love to see her a couple of times a year as she gets older, I think. I know the time will come when I will need to try to move on with my life.

But for now, that seems an impossible task. How will I ever move on? How will I ever not ache when I think of my precious baby? How can it ever possibly hurt any less to not be her mommy?

I feel like I can't do this. I think, if I was going to place her, I should have done it right after she was born. I can't be a mother for two months and then stop. I love her too much. I am too attached.

I know that adoption is the very best thing for Roo. I just wish it wasn't so hard for me. My mother keeps talking about things we will do after Roo has been placed - fun places we'll go, things we'll buy. She talked about presents for my birthday. But I don't want to go or do anything fun. I don't want birthday presents. I don't want a birthday at all. All I want is Roo.

My tears are selfish ones. All I can think is how hard it will be for me to lose my baby. If I was thinking of her at all, I wouldn't cry. I would be happy, because she is going to have a wonderful life. But I can't help it. I keep second-guessing myself. Was I pressured into choosing adoption? Is this really a decision I've made for myself? Can I really handle this?

Did I choose the right family? Will she be happy, cared for, loved? Will they hold her enough? She needs lots of cuddles. What if they don't talk to her enough? She loves being talked to. I like to set her on the bed and stretch out next to her with my face next to hers and talk to her. Will they do that? Will she get enough attention with an older sister in the house? If she fusses during their dinner, will they leave her to fuss while they eat? She needs to be picked up - I eat one-handed while I hold her, if I must. She loves to nap while being held. Will they hold her while she naps or put her down? I can't bear to think of her being treated any differently than I treat her. I am her mommy, surely I know what's best. But I can't be her mommy anymore. I can't be there to make sure she's being held, cuddled, loved.

It's nothing against P and M. I know they are the very best parents. I think I'd feel this way with anyone, because they are not me, and I want to be the one to take care of her. How am I supposed to go on without my baby? What am I supposed to do? I feel like I'm dying. My father was dead long before his heart stopped beating. That will be me as well. I will be an empty, Roo-less shell.

I can do hard things. I have done hard things before. But this feels worse than hard. This feels impossible. I try to focus on the good in this. On Roo, and how happy she will be with her mommy and daddy and big sister. She will go to primary and learn about Jesus. She won't feel left out on father's day. She won't have to be shuffled from one parent to another, confused about what is right and good and acceptable. I won't have to worry about what she is exposed to, what she is learning.

I know I am doing the right thing, the best thing. I just wish it wasn't so hard.

Me Me Me

My name is Jill. I had a baby girl, Roo, on July 7th, 2009. I handed her to her mommy and daddy on September 9th, 9 weeks later.
This blog is my attempt to make sense of things and it is my hope that when Roo is older, she'll read it, and maybe she'll understand.